I Don't Know

I don't know how to do this.

How to be the daughter of a dead mother.

I don't know what to say when people ask "How are you? Are you doing ok?"

I know they mean well. I know because I've been the one asking that question before, sending the texts, saying if you need anything let me know.

I don't know how to answer their questions. I don't know what ok means. I don't know what I need. I don't know how to get up every morning and do the things I did before she died. 

At the funeral I could hug strangers, thank people for their outpouring of love and support. I could assure people that she was free of pain now. That she was ready to go. That it was peaceful.

I could laugh and cry at the stories that were shared. We would talk about the hundreds upon hundreds of lives she touched, about the amazing legacy she leaves.

We could say all of these things- but that doesn't make it hurt any less. 

I miss my mom. It hurts more and more each day, each hour, each minute, each second she is not here.